


Love is Overrated

by orphan_account



Series: End of the Line [2]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Angst, Deception, Denial of Feelings, Depression, Drunken Kissing, Emotional Manipulation, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Guilt, Identity Issues, Innuendo, M/M, Manipulation, Mirror Universe, No Smut, Slow Burn, The Author Regrets Nothing, Threats, Trust Issues, Why do I keep breaking Trip's heart?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-03-13 15:38:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18943915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: (Eventual Mirror!Malcolm x Trip); (Formerly known as "Distorted Reflections")-When Malcolm was drafted into the MACOs, he was expecting plenty of explosions and to be making history in the name of the Terran Empire. What he wasn't expecting was to get trapped in a parallel universe where everything is different. Including his relationship with a certain Starfleet engineer...





	1. Chapter 1

_Two Years Ago, Prime Universe..._

Malcolm leaned into the kiss, his hands tugging at the other man's shirt to pull him closer. He never thought that something like this could ever happen between them. Sure, they were friends, but beyond that... Malcolm trailed his hands up to Trip's shoulders, then slowly ran his fingers through the other man's blonde locks. Trip let out a soft moan of pleasure, sending shivers down Malcolm's spine.

The tactical officer broke the kiss, his lips only inches away from his partner's. "I thoroughly enjoyed that," he murmured, earning a small chuckle from the other man.

"Me too, Mal," Trip slurred, gently resting his forehead against Malcolm's. "We're drunk, ain't we?"

"I think so," Malcolm admitted, sniffing the air a bit. They both smelled strongly of alcohol. "You... don't regret this, do you?"

Trip nuzzled the smaller man's brunette hair. "What makes ya ask that? 'Course I don't regret this. I been wantin' to do this with ya a long time."

"It pleases me to hear you say that," Malcolm murmured. "You don't know how long I've wanted to do that... to do this... I... I wanted it so badly, but I was too afraid to say anything. I... didn't want to lose our friendship."

"Mal..." Trip placed a finger on Malcolm's chin and tilted the Brit's face up so they were looking into each other's eyes. "You got nothin' to be 'fraid of. Like I said- I wanted this too. Still do. I'd like to be with you... if ya wanna be with me."

Malcolm's heart warmed at Trip's words. "I do, Trip. I want to be with you. Even if it means having to put up with your ridiculous antics."

This earned another chuckle from Trip, along with another, shorter kiss. "Ya love my antics and ya damn well know it. Now... let's say you and I take this to my quarters, hmmm?"

"You have a deal, my love," Malcolm replied, smirking at the engineer. And without another word, he smashed their lips back together in a heated passion.

* * *

A/N: I know, I know. Super short prologue. The next chapter will be longer, I promise. And obviously this prologue takes place with Prime Universe Malcolm.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Slight spoiler alert: This chapter takes place with Mirror Malcolm Reed now. Just thought I should clarify. Also, I don't know a whole lot about Starfleet ranks, so be nice about it if I get it wrong. And same thing for "In a Mirror, Darkly, Parts I&II". I haven't watched those episodes in a while. So I'll probably make some mistakes (but since this story is kinda AU already, who cares?).

Also, sorry if this story totally sucks, but this is my first time writing slash, okay? So please go easy on me.

Now... enjoy!

* * *

_Present Day, Prime Universe..._

Malcolm Reed had never really cared for life. Especially for his own life in general. Life seemed to feel the same way about him. After all, it always liked throw shit at him. But no matter what, somehow the soldier managed to pull through- whether he was fighting on the battlefield or in his quarters trying to get over a massive hangover.

Malcolm was sure he was going to pull this stunt off. It was what he did, after all. It was his reputation to overcome the impossible. He never thought that the whole thing would backfire on him.  _Damn Gorn. Damn Enterprise. Damn me and my whole life_.

He was sure he was going to die, that this was going to be the end. He was wrong.

As Malcolm drifted somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness, he was vaguely aware of his environment. Sometimes he heard voices- sometimes harsh and angry, other times soft and soothing. Sometimes he heard a strange beeping that seemed to align itself with his unsteady heartbeat. Sometimes he felt another hand stroking his. On more than one occasion, something soft brushed his lips.

Malcolm almost became content with his new existence. He was okay with being on the edge of oblivion forever. However, it seemed that this wonderful world of nothingness was coming to an end. Malcolm's periods of being on the edge of consciousness became longer and more frequent. He knew he was waking up, and he didn't want to.  _Just let me go. Let me die already_ , Malcolm's mind pleaded desperately. But no one heard him.

And then, one day, it happened. Malcolm's eyes snapped open, his senses on high alert.

"Welcome back, Lieutenant Reed," a familiar voice greeted pleasantly.

Malcolm pushed himself up with his elbows, half-lying half-sitting on the biobed. "Doctor Phlox," he croaked out painfully, his heart racing. _God, what happened?_

"Yes, it's me," Phlox replied, sounding slightly amused. "How are you feeling?"

 _What the hell?_  Malcolm thought. Then another man came barging into Sickbay.

"How is he?" It was clearly Trip. Malcolm stared, wondering what the heck was going on. Where was Trip's facial scarring? Why was Phlox acting so pleasant all of a sudden? The questions just went on and on.

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" Phlox gestured to the now-awake Malcolm.

"Mal!" Trip hurried over to Malcolm and before the latter could even reply, the engineer had already locked lips with him. Malcolm stiffened in response. For a second, time seemed to stop. The soldier didn't know what to think- his mind was a complete blank. All he knew was that for reasons beyond his comprehension,  _Trip_  was kissing  _him._ Trip must have sensed Malcolm's discomfort, since after a moment he pulled away from the smaller man. "Mal? You okay?"

Malcolm stared at Trip uncomprehendingly, trying to get his thoughts in working order. After several seconds, he sputtered, "What in the bloody hell?!!"

* * *

Jonathan Archer was definitely not expecting to be woken up at two in the morning in the first place. He definitely wasn't also expecting to hear that Malcolm was awake. The man had been in a coma for two straight months, so Archer had begun to doubt that the security officer would ever wake up.

So naturally at first Archer was very happy to know that Malcolm was awake. But when Phlox explained the rather strange situation to him, Archer became... disconcerted to say the least. And now here he was in Sickbay, at two in the morning, trying to make sense of all this.

He should have gotten a cup or two of coffee first.

Malcolm looked back and forth between Trip, Archer, and Phlox, awaiting an explanation. "Is  _anyone_  going to tell me why I'm in Sickbay and why Commander Tucker  _kissed_  me?! And what the hell is wrong with your  _uniforms?!"_

"Mal, calm down," Trip pleaded, trying to settle the other man down.

"Don't you get friendly with me, Tucker!" Malcolm snarled, getting up off the biobed. "We both know how much you want to snap my neck!" Archer's hand cautiously rested on his phase pistol.

"Lieutenant Reed, stand down," Archer ordered.

 _"Lieutenant?!"_  Malcolm practically shrieked. "Oh, so you decided to give me a promotion, now did you? Was it because you were guilty about that blasted  _suicide mission_  you lead us on?! That damn alien almost killed us all!"

"Malcolm, what are you talking about?" Archer asked, his hand still resting cautiously on his phase pistol.

"So you're pretending that it never happened? I see how it is! Well maybe this will jog your memory,  _Commander_  Archer!" Malcolm threw a sloppy punch at Archer. Due to still feeling the fatigue of his coma, Malcolm's coordination was way off. The Starship captain sidestepped the attack and at the same time whipped out his phase pistol. He shot Malcolm with it, the thin red beam of energy stunning him. The pissed-off Brit slumped to the floor, unconscious.

Archer and Phlox shared a look. Trip could only look on with horror. "What did you do?!"

"I just stunned him," Archer replied. "He'll be fine. Phlox... what the hell just happened?"

"I'm not quite certain, to be honest with you," Phlox replied, while hoisting Malcolm back on the biobed with Trip's help. "Some human patients have had similar reactions when coming out of comas. What you and Commander Tucker just saw may have been the result of Lieutenant Reed's dreams."

"Dreams?"

"Even coma patients sometimes have dreams, Captain," Phlox told him. "It's possible that Lieutenant Reed created a dreamscape. He may have thought that the events that took place within it were real."

Archer considered this a moment, his expression grim. "I don't think so. Something tells me there's more to this than we realise. Phlox, get some restraints. I don't think this is going to be the last time Malcolm decides he wants to hit someone."

"Captain, I'm not sure if that is a wise decisi-"

"Just do it," Archer interrupted.

"Cap'n, I agree with Phlox," Trip spoke up. "I mean, what if Mal hurts himself tryin' to get free?"

"Then either try to get him to calm down or knock him out again," Archer replied. "Either way, he's staying on that biobed until we figure out just what's going on."

* * *

Malcolm- who was restrained to the biobed as Archer had ordered- glared at Phlox, watching his every move like an angry hawk. Trip sat on the biobed across from Malcolm, as silent as a statue.

"You don't have to watch everything I do, Lieutenant," Phlox told Malcolm, having grown tired of his constant stare. "If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done so a long time ago."

"That's funny," Malcolm replied, his tone the exact opposite of amused. "That's really, really funny, Doctor. As I seem to recall, you  _thoroughly_  enjoyed hurting people. You even had Commander Tucker tortured once."

Trip and Phlox shared a confused look. "What're ya goin' on 'bout, Mal?" Trip asked, looking back at the restrained man. "Phlox never did that to me."

Malcolm glared at Trip, his eyes burning with hatred. "Whatever. It's not like I care." His gaze lingered on the side of Trip's face. "What happened to your scar?"

"Scar?"

"From the delta radiation, you bloody idiot!" Malcolm snapped. Trip flinched, evidently having not expected such a violent reaction.

"Mal... what happened to you?" Trip looked at Malcolm with a sad expression. "Why are ya actin' like this? It... it isn't  _you."_

"Oh?" Malcolm hissed. "And what would you know about  _me?_ _Hm?_  Tell me."

"I know that at your first prom, your date ditched ya to go dance with the captain of your football team," Trip explained. "You were so ashamed ya went and hid in the alley outside your gym. Cried your eyes out and then went home. You never told your parents cuz you weren't exactly close. I'm the only person ya ever told."

Malcolm's eyes widened in astonishment. Yes, that did happen to him at his first prom. And it was true that he never told his parents, or anyone else, about the incident. But he never remembered telling Trip that.  _And yet, he knows._

"You love pineapple," Trip continued, "but you're allergic to the bromine in it so ya get allergy injections so you can tolerate it."

That was also true. Malcolm stared at Trip with astonishment.

"You never were close to your family," Trip added. "You never saw eye to eye with 'em on a lotta things."

Malcolm was silent a moment, thinking over all the things Trip had said. "...How...?"

"Commander, may I have a moment?" Phlox asked from the other side of the room.

"I'll be right back," Trip told Malcolm, his voice soft. The engineer made his way to Phlox, who was staring at a computer screen. "What can I do for ya, Doc?"

"I'm afraid I have found something... disconcerting," Phlox replied. "I'll review over my findings again, to be absolutely certain, but if I'm right... well, let's just say you shouldn't get your hopes up, Commander."

Trip's heart skipped a beat at that. "What'ya mean?"

"I... think it's best if I double check my theory," Phlox said vaguely. Both his words and tone were ominous.

And that only worried Trip even more.


	3. Chapter 3

Trip placed the bottle to his lips, cool glass brushing his skin. The amber liquid burned his throat, but he ignored it. He watched the stars fly by the mess hall windows. At the speed that  _Enterprise_  was going, the glowing celestial bodies seemed to stretch increasingly thin and then disappear.

 _But stars don't stretch,_  Trip reminded himself, his mind somewhat hazy from the alcohol.  _And they don't disappear. Even when they go supernova. They leave behind the parts of them that made them whole._ That last thought did it for Trip. His breath hitched as he tried to hold back a sob, and then he broke down.

Trip didn't know long he had sat there like that, hunched over with tears streaming down his face. It was only when T'Pol called his name that he lifted his head.

"What'ya want?" Trip slurred, wiping his face with his uniform sleeve. He briefly noted that his tears tasted like salt. "Cantcha see Ah wanna be alone?" His accent had been thickened from the effects of the alcohol.

"Are you alright?" T'Pol asked.

Trip let out a snort. The answer to that was pretty obvious. "Yah, Ah'm doin' just peachy!" He exclaimed sarcastically, giving the Vulcan a mocking smile. "E'en though Ah'm clearly drunk and Mal is actin' all crazy-like and there ain't a damn thing Ah can do till the Doc can figure out what's wrong with him!"

"I'm sorry."

"Yah, well, sorry just don't cut it anymore." Trip tilted the bottle in his hand and took several good, long gulps. When he lowered it, he continued, "Look, Ah git ya sorta care about me in some capacity or whatever, but right now, Ah just wanna be alone."

"I'm not sure that is a good idea," T'Pol told him. "As I recall, you told the captain yourself that you were going to get help for your condition. You told Lieutenant Reed the same thing. Yet here you are, hiding in the mess hall in the middle of the night, drowning your sorrows in alcohol. This is not good, Commander- not for your physical or mental health."

"Ah don't care," Trip growled, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. He looked down at his bottle, feeling a bit dizzy.

"You should care," T'Pol retorted. "What do you think Lieutenant Reed would say to you if he saw you like this? What do you think he would say if he knew you broke your promise to him?"

Trip jerked his head up sharply, and immediately regretted it. The ship seemed to spin around him. It soon righted itself, but he still felt sick. "Ya shoulda seen the way he looked at me," Trip murmured, tears brimming in his eyes again. He couldn't break down again, not again. "Looked at me like Ah was... Ah just... T'Pol, that wasn't  _mah_  Mal in there. T'wasn't him. It's mah own damned fault! If Ah had been there-"

"If you had been there, you would either be dead or in a similar condition," T'Pol interrupted. "It wasn't your fault, Commander. You cannot control everything that happens to Malcolm, or to anyone else for that matter. It is impossible."

"Ah wish Ah was Vulcan," Trip said, looking back at his bottle. "Then Ah wouldn't have to worry ' bout gittin' hurt. Cuz Ah would have been trained to not let people in. Ah wouldn't have let this crew in, or you, or Malcolm. Ah'd be mah own happy li'l lonesome self. Not in pain. Not drinkin' mahself to death. Not..." He stopped talking, and closed his eyes, desperately trying to keep from crying. His breathing was short and shuddering. "Ah lost Lizzie, Ah lost Malcolm... who's gonna be next?  _Enterprise_ is all Ah got left."

"That is not true and you know it."

"Ya wanna know somethin'?" Trip asked. "Hope is totally overrated. Shoulda learned that a long time ago." There was a long, drawn out silence. Finally Trip murmured, "Ah remember the first time Mal and Ah danced."

"Would you like to tell me about it?" T'Pol asked, her voice now soft. She sat down across from him. "You do not have to if you don't want to. But perhaps sharing your feelings will help with the pain."

Trip shrugged. "S'pose it couldn't hurt. Ya remember our trip to that one planet the Andorians recommended? The one with all those skyscrapers and ancient ruins?"

"Yes," T'Pol replied. "I remember. I found many of the excavation sites to be quite intriguing."

"Well, Mal and Ah went to some sorta Festival or somethin' that they were havin' in the town square. The sun was settin', and the people started playin' slow music. If that ain't romantic, Ah don't what is."

* * *

_A Year Ago..._

Trip leaned casually against a marble column, Malcolm standing close by. They watched as the couples "swayed" to the music as Trip would have cheekily put it. Suddenly the engineer had a thought. "Hey, Mal..."

"Yes?" Malcolm turned his attention to Trip.

"Have we ever... uh,  _danced_  together before?"

"No, not that I can recall. Why?"

"Well then... why dontcha 'sway' with me, hm?" Trip smiled mischievously at the Brit.

"I... um..." Malcolm was at a loss for words. "Well, I don't... I mean..."

"Mal, just shut up and dance with me." Trip pulled Malcolm closer, placing one hand on the smaller man's hip, and then taking his lover's hand in his other. "That's an order, Lieutenant."

Malcolm chuckled in amusement, wrapping an arm around Trip's shoulder. "Yes sir." They moved slowly and surely to the music, forgetting about the other dancers, forgetting about  _Enterprise,_  forgetting about everything but each other. Trip smiled down at his lover, who had his eyes closed.

"I love you," Trip told him suddenly. Malcolm opened his eyes and looked up at the blonde. "I know it shouldn't have taken me this long to say it, but I love you, Malcolm. I love you."

Malcolm was silent and for a moment, Trip thought he screwed up. Then he heard Malcolm say, "I love you too, Trip. I've loved you for a long time. I just... never had the courage to say it until now."

"Heh, same here," Trip replied. He leaned in and kissed Malcolm on the forehead. The brunette let out a soft hum of pleasure and closed his eyes. Trip grinned. "Ya like it when I kiss ya there dontcha?"

"You have no idea," Malcolm murmured, his eyes still closed.

"Any other places ya like to be kissed?"

Malcolm opened his eyes again and gave Trip a suggestive smile. "As a matter of fact..." He started to lead the engineer to a more secluded corner of the square. "... there  _are."_

* * *

Trip was crying again as he finished telling T'Pol about the memory. "That was probably one of the best days of mah life," he murmured. "And now he's gone."

"You don't know that," T'Pol told him firmly.

"No, Ah do know it," Trip retorted, wiping his face in vain. "Ah know it in mah heart that Mal is gone. That man in Sickbay... it ain't him. It ain't him."

T'Pol sighed, having realised that she wasn't getting through to the engineer. "Perhaps we should try a different approach. If you're certain that things between you and Lieutenant Reed aren't going to return to the way they were before, then maybe you should try connecting to the person he is now. I am not saying that it will magically fix things- it will not, because life does not work that way. But if you make an effort, perhaps you and Lieutenant Reed might have another chance."

Trip looked up the Vulcan, a faint hope in his eyes. "Ya really think so?"

"I cannot say for certain. And I am not saying you should get your hopes up," T'Pol replied. "I am merely giving you advice as to how to proceed from here on out."

Trip suddenly reached out and pulled T'Pol into his arms. "Thanks, T'Pol." She stiffened at first in response to the embrace, then returned the hug.

"I am just doing what any friend would do."

"And Ah appreciate that." Trip pulled away, now smiling. "Ah... uh, Ah look like shit, don't Ah?" His face was a sickly pale and was slightly wet from his tears. There were bags underneath his eyes from several days of little sleep.

"No offense, but yes. You do," T'Pol told him.

"Ah'll go clean up then."

"As you should. You should also get some rest, if you can."

Trip nodded, wobbling up out of his seat. "Yah. Ah'll try. G'night, T'Pol."

"Good night, Commander." Trip nodded again and stumbled out of the mess hall, filled with a newfound determination. T'Pol watched him leave, then turned her attention to the star zipping by the windows. She would never say it aloud, but she hoped that Trip and Malcolm would be able to have a second chance. She didn't want to know what Trip would do if they didn't.

* * *

A/N: Yep, lots of angst. We probably won't be seeing fluff for a while, except maybe during flashbacks.  Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter nonetheless, and I will be seeing you next chapter! I may make some changes to this chapter, too, but overall, I'm satisfied with the result.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to update this, but I didn't really have much of an interest in writing for this for a while until just recently. I'll probably do some more revising on the previous chapters, as there is stuff that kinda doesn't really fit my writing style now, but I'm determined to get this, as well as my many other fics, finished. :) 
> 
> I'd also like to apologise for this chapter being so short, but I felt that if I made it any longer that I'd probably never finish it. (One of the joys of being a procrastinator). Constructive criticism appreciated, FLAMES are NOT.

Malcolm's eyes flicked to the Sickbay doors as Trip stepped in. The engineer nervously combed his blonde hair with his fingers as he sat down on a nearby biobed. Malcolm sensed the engineer's cautious hesitation and smirked. "Well, well. The prodigal son returns."

Trip had done his best to clean up last night, but he was sure that despite the fact that he had quite literally scrubbed his skin raw in the shower he still smelled of alcohol. And anyway, no amount of showering was going to get rid of his pounding headache.

Or his morning sickness. At least he wasn't pregnant this time around.

Trip fiddled with his uniform nervously, suddenly unsure of what to say. "Er... hi, Mal," he greeted, his voice barely audible. His blue eyes shyly flitted up to look at the brunette. "Where's Phlox?"

"Why?"

"No reason, I guess," Trip told him. "How... uh, how are ya feelin'?"

Malcolm tilted his head slightly, no expression on his face. "You're really going to continue this ridiculous charade? I knew you were persistent, Commander Tucker, but this... you must be truly desperate."

Trip jerked his head up, his eyes burning with hurt. "It ain't a charade, Mal. Look, no matter what you're goin' through, no matter how much ya try and push me away, I'll be there for ya. I... won't try to push ya or anythin'. I don't expect you to love me again... or even be my friend. I just want ya to know that I'm not gonna turn my back on ya."

Malcolm was unimpressed. "If you knew the things I've done, you wouldn't be saying that."

"That ain't true," Trip retorted immediately. "I'll always be at your side, Mal- whether ya like it or not! Even if ya blew up a planet, I'd do everythin' in my power to keep ya safe!"

"I never took you for the sentimental type." Malcolm tilted his head in the opposite direction, a mocking smile flashing across his face. "Not that I ever gave a damn, anyway."

"Were ya even listenin'?"

"Oh, sorry, what was that? If you came here hoping I was going to fall into your arms halplessly like a bloody damsel in distress, you're mistaken. Hope is for children and love... well,  _love_  is a thing of the past. There's only the Terran Empire."

Trip sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. "Mal... what's it gonna take to getcha to believe me?"

"What's it going to take to make you give up?" Malcolm growled, a sudden aggressiveness taking over him. "Half the crew wants me dead- you among them. It's going to take more than the 'heartbroken schoolboy' act to fool me, Commander."

Something inside Trip seemed to snap at Malcolm's words. "I don't want ya dead, Malcolm! I came here to Sickbay every single damn day you were in a coma! I came here every day, stayed for as long as I could, waiting for- no,  _willing_ ya to wake up! What makes ya think I would ever want you dead?"

Malcolm had been trained to detect deception. The MACOs made damn well sure of that. He always knew when someone was lying, no matter how well they did the signs. They always let a little telltale detail slip. Which was why the soldier was surprised that Trip was being honest. Everything he was saying was true. Hell, he was more than surprised. It wasn't an act.

Trip- for some godforsaken reason- was in hopelessly love with him. Malcolm burst out laughing at the absurdity of it all. There was a time when Trip absolutely  _adored_  Malcolm's laugh. A time when he would do everything possible just to hear that lovely sound. Now it rang hollowly in the engineer's ears, mocking him both literally and figuratively.

Trip was unaware of the tears now sliding down his face, nor did he realise that he had stood up and started to walk away. He had no control over what he was doing. By the time he had reached his quarters, he was a hot, bawling mess. He fell limply to his knees, his upper body rolling with sobs, his lungs hitching with every breath he took. The man in Sickbay was not Lieutenant Malcolm Reed. He was someone else entirely.

And in spite of T'Pol's advice the previous evening, Trip still didn't know where to go from here.


End file.
